Stolen
by Vera Kate
Summary: Supernaturals are going missing and everyone is fair game.
1. Prologue & Chapter 1: New Beginnings

A/N: Thanks for checking out my story! I will say this now - I am a book reader and this is my approach as to how they could possibly combine their current season one plot and characters with the book _Stolen_. If you want to remain 100% unspoiled as to possible characters or plot ideas then this probably isn't the story for you. I just wanted to get that out there since I'm sure there are some readers that might fall into that category. For the rest of you - book readers and non-book readers alike - I hope you enjoy!

This also is in the same 'world' as my other Bitten stories - Close of Business and Echos - but as of right now, they aren't necessarily prequels or something that you have to read to understand this one.

Disclaimer: I don't own _Bitten_ or the collected works of _Women of __the Otherworld_.

* * *

Prologue

Paige drummed her pen against her notepad. She was reduced to taking notes on paper instead of her laptop due to her mother's insistence. Council meetings were always long and tedious and this one hadn't even started yet.

She glanced at the clock on the wall. They were already running fifteen minutes behind. She didn't know why it surprised her. It shouldn't. She had been attending council meetings on and off since she was five and then regularly once she turned twelve.

In theory the council sounded like it was something that would be exciting. A council for supernaturals to discuss issues, grievances, and concerns in their world? How in the world could that ever be boring?

It was when the supernatural world wasn't as vivid as Hollywood and the literary community made it out to be. Sure, there were witches, necromancers, half-demons, shamans, and vampires, but they weren't anywhere near what pop culture told them what they should be. There were other types of supernatural races out there too, deviations of the major races and then there were the sorcerers. Sorcerers tended not to get along with anyone who wasn't a sorcerer or on their payroll. The council had been formed as a way of protecting themselves from the sorcerers and the power they wielded.

Paige sighed again. Her mother was chatting away with Kenneth, the shaman representative. She desperately wished she had her laptop here. She could be using this time to do important things, such as try to fix her resume for her endless job search or see if she had any luck with her dating profile, or hacking into an unmentioned financial institution that charged outrageous overage fees for not processing the transactions in the proper order.

Paige sighed as she slumped in her desk. Her mother would get on to her later about that. She needed to maintain the proper posture. She was being groomed as her mother's replacement. She knew that the day wouldn't be here anytime soon. Her mother was in excellent health and in no signs of slowing down. Besides, taking on the duties of the council in addition to her mother's role as leader of the North American Witches Coven on top of the rest of her life? She might be able to schedule an hour or two of sleep in a week.

The door opened and she smiled. Adam was here. She had known Adam since he was eight and somehow managed to never develop a crush on him. Objectively she knew that he was good looking but he just wasn't her cup of tea. His step-father followed, the representative for half-demons. He had a grim face today, which was atypical.

"Is this everyone," he asked.

Paige looked around the room. There was Cassandra, the vampire, her mom, the witch, Kenneth the shaman and now Robert the half-demon. There should have been a necromancer representative but that was one of the issues slated to be discussed today. The previous one had died unexpectedly and hadn't started training a successor.

Adam came and sat next to her, his grin was dimmer than it usually was. He wasn't exactly having the greatest of luck with the job search but he preferred to spend his days surfing in the ocean.

"We have a problem," his dad Robert began. This was unheard of. The meeting hadn't been called into order, nor had they gone over the business they had discussed last month.

"Supernaturals are going missing," he said and the room was deathly quiet.

"Missing," her mother repeated.

"I've had several reports of people … being rounded up."

* * *

Chapter 1: New Beginnings

Six months had passed since the Pack had stood its harshest test to date. Malcolm Danvers had unleashed a whirlwind of carnage against them and somehow they had stood strong in its wake. True, they weren't all there, not anymore. They had lost two members before the last battle, Peter and Antonio. Logan had left the Pack after discovering that his girlfriend Rachel was pregnant with a boy and he did not want to follow Pack law that dictated that he take his son away from Rachel and raise him on his own.

There were a lot of Pack laws that seemed outdated these days. Unfortunately the laws were in place for a reason. They had stood the test of generations, preserving their kind since they first emerged. It was a barbaric practice but that was what had to be done to protect everyone. What mother would accept that her son was a werewolf and not look at him differently? Not have him committed to a psychiatric facility? Send him away from his father, the one who is supposed to guide him through his first Change?

Elena knew that despite this, the laws had to change. They had to change. They didn't have the numbers they once had. They couldn't take another loss. The Pack was too small – Jeremy, Clay, Nick, and her. That was it. That was all that remained. There weren't any small children running around, the hope for the next generation and this was no time to consider having children either. The threat was too big, too dangerous.

Jeremy had reached out to the extended family of the Sorrentinos but they all gave noncommittal answers. They were still grieving Antonio's loss, or so that was the reason they gave him. Jeremy never said much but his tone suggested that there might be more to it than simply that.

Malcolm.

Before Jeremy was Alpha, Antonio's father Dominic was Alpha. When Dominic died, there was a power struggle between Jeremy and his father Malcolm. Jeremy ended up the winner but it cost the Pack half of its members either due to desertion or death. Their numbers hadn't recovered since and now they were withering away.

Elena would sometimes hear Jeremy pacing in his room or having nightmares. It was hard not to hear. Old houses had thin walls and she had supernatural hearing.

There weren't any scars to Stonehaven itself from the attack. The house had been repaired, new furniture bought, and bodies buried. Jeremy had devised several new ways of blocking off old hidden passages and further securing the Alpha's secrets.

Elena had thrown herself into her work, her new work. She didn't have time or the luxury to be a photographer, or at least not right now. She was working full time for the Pack. She was checking up on mutts and offering a select few Pack membership with Jeremy's blessing.

Karl was an example that she used. Karl had originally teamed up with Daniel Santos and Malcolm in the attack against the Pack but realized – at the last minute – that this wasn't a fight he wanted to be a part of.

She had a few that were interested in joining but needed time to think. She wished she spent most of her time doing that. No, most of her time was spent with Clay chasing down more rogue mutts that Malcolm convinced to act out.

Elena had seen more dead bodies than she cared to in the past six months. Philip still haunted her at night. She stubbornly refused to switch rooms, although she did have a new mattress and bedding. She was going to get past this. In the last month, she even made it to the point where she didn't have anxiety when it was time to get under the covers.

Elena finished her bedtime routine in the bathroom and softly padded her way to her bedroom. She didn't have to worry about anyone being in there, or at least not Clay being in there. Of all of the rooms in the main house, her room was the one that had a remaining working lock. When they would fight, he would yell and pound on the door, stalking outside, but he knew that he couldn't break in. Jeremy had forbidden it and to Clay, it was the word of God.

Elena slipped under the covers and sighed. It was her first night in a week to be back at home. She had finished up a trip to Chicago that was unfruitful and her bringing back a new wardrobe. It was better not to chance bloody clothes with all of the random baggage searches the airlines conducted.

She closed her eyes and slowed her breathing. She tried not to replay the events of six months ago but each night she failed. She relived each punch and kick without fail. It was a stark reminder of how little they had progressed since then and how far Malcolm had.

* * *

Clay had hardly finished putting the plates of bacon on the table when Jeremy strode in. The bags under his eyes looked worse than the last time she saw him. She wondered if he had managed to sleep at all last night.

He didn't respond to their morning greetings, simply handed her a printed article about a wolf attack in Ohio.

She _wanted_ to say something snide in return. She wanted to point out that she was trying to repair her relationships with the Pack but that was hard to do when she was constantly being sent away on business but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She knew that Jeremy liked having her around. She knew that ultimately, all of this came back on her for running away from her duties.

Clay looked over and frowned at the location. He had gone with her a few times but he mostly stayed back at Stonehaven these days. He needed to be here in case Malcolm tried to kill Jeremy again.

He grabbed a mug of coffee and gnawed at a piece of bacon. Once he had something in his stomach, he gave Elena a sad smile.

"I know you only just got back," he said.

"I'll leave once I'm repacked. I think my clothes are almost done, so once they are, I'll be on the next flight out."

Clay had remained quiet during this. Elena knew that he wanted more time with her but that was secondary – Jeremy needed protection, the Pack needed protection. Without Jeremy, there wouldn't be a Pack to safeguard their kind from the human world. Once this was over, they would have their much deserved time. That was what got Elena through the long flights and endless nights.

* * *

She grabbed her laundry out of the dryer. She eyed a few shirts, wondering how long this set would last. She sighed and went to her room, only to find the door blockaded by Clay.

"Any idea how long you'll be this time?"

"Hard to say," she said. "Right now it's just the one article that is being passed around the media. I need to get there before it turns cold and we have to wait for another."

Clay started to reach for her but pulled back. He did that more frequently now, after Toronto. Before there wasn't any hesitation or question about physical contact, now there seemed to be a question mark following him, despite his best intentions.

"If you need help, you know, just call."

"Nick knows," she said, pushing past him and going in her room. She started the monotonous task of folding and packing her bag.

"If you want," she started, turning around, but Clay was already gone.


	2. Wild Ride

A/N: Thanks for checking out this chapter! I am going to start offering the same deal I offer on my other multichapter story - if you're one of the first ten reviewers of a chapter, you'll receive a drabble of your choice! Drabbles are typically 100 words long, so while they're short, they're also fun and can really get the important things across. The drabbles will be pulling from the show only unless otherwise requested (but even then it'll still be a blend since this is in the _Bitten_ section). The drabbles will be posted in a separate story listing (current working title is _Snapshots_ but it may always change between now and then) and then will have a new chapter posted for every new chapter of _Stolen_ I publish (example: drabbles for Stolen: 2 will be in Snapshots 1; Stolen 3 - Snapshots 2, etc.). You can find examples of drabbles I've written in _Tales of Another Life _to get an idea what they could be like.

Disclaimer: I don't own _Bitten_ or the collected works of Kelley Armstrong.

* * *

Chapter 2: Wild Ride

She was growing weary of the chase. She had tracked down a mutt to a sleazy bar and he had spent the past hour trying to chat up a woman that was simply not into it. If he hadn't been plastered, he might have picked up on her body language sign but he continued yammering on, about how she just wouldn't believe his 'endurance' and that he would make sure that she would always remember him.

She inwardly rolled her eyes. She had listened to more than a handful of mutts say that to her once news of her arrival spread across the werewolf community. Clay had let her handle the mutts herself. She needed too. If he hadn't, it would only send across the message that she was weak. Besides, she needed the practice of a _real_ no holds barred fight.

Her diet coke was almost gone. She glanced at her watch and debated if she should order another one. Tonight was purely surveillance. She had gone to the scene of the crime but there were too many scents there to pick out a specific one. This was a stroke of luck, catching his scent as she was headed back to her rental car.

Elena wasn't sure _why_ he hadn't noticed her. It might have been the alcohol. It might have been that he somehow didn't know about her. Whatever the reason, he continued chatting up the bored bottle blonde.

She was calling it a night. He wasn't going anywhere and she had just finished doing something on her phone. Either a ride was coming or a pissed off boyfriend.

Elena left a tip at her table and left the bar in desperate need of rest.

* * *

The morning paper didn't have anything about any sort of 'animal' or 'wolf' attack, so her instinct was right. It was a nice feeling, seeing her gut instinct validated by something as impartial as a newspaper that didn't even know what was going on.

She would stay here for one week, following the guidelines Jeremy had established. That gave the mutts plenty of time to recognize that she was there, and stop, seeing how the Pack was now aware of them and their activities, or it would either provoke them into another attack. There had been one so far that simply didn't care one way or the other about who she was or who the Pack was. The mutt hadn't even _known_ about the Pack.

That was the price of bitten werewolves and her abandoning her post. Mutts like that one slipped through and caused an exposure risk for them all.

She couldn't just rest though. It was possible that there was another mutt in the city. It would be highly unlikely. If there was another one, odds are that he would have been with the one in the bar last night. Mutts tended to travel in groups of two or three, unofficial packs, skirting the rules as close as they could. Similarly they liked to 'claim' a city and eliminate or highly suggest that other werewolves leave. It was something that hadn't been tolerated in the era before Jeremy's reign. However, back in those times, they also had the numbers to keep mutts constantly on the move and there were more than a few members that enjoyed making examples out of mutts.

She checked her email and voicemail. There wasn't anything in there. Clay rarely emailed – which seemed jarring considering how he loathed the vast majority of any sort of interaction with another – and he only called when an emergency arose. He adopted a 'out of sight, out of mind' approach, or so he tried to explain to her once. Jeremy had told her that it was a big bluff and that he spent more than a normal amount of time checking his phone and the landline for missed calls, despite the routine of her checking in three times each day or more as the situation warranted it.

Clay typically woke up with the sun. He would have been up for hours by now.

She called him.

* * *

She was staking out the park. It was slightly off putting, having people wonder why their dogs were snarling at a seemingly normal woman. Elena still wasn't used to that. Animals could smell that she wasn't quite human but also that she wasn't completely like them either. It unnerved them, Jeremy explained.

She found a bench under a tree and sat down. She grabbed a book from her purse and set to the task of 'reading' it. The mutt would have to come here. He had come here every afternoon the past three days she had been watching him. Had it actually been something else? The mutt didn't strike her as the "mauling humans" type. He was typically quiet and talking on his phone. Even his scent suggested that he was close to being brand new. Maybe she _was_ hunting the wrong one. Maybe the mutt that had made headlines moved on to a different city once he realized it made the papers.

That would have been the smart thing to do. Elena hadn't run into any smart mutts thus far.

The afternoon passed and he was running late. It was nearing dark – past the point where she could conceivably be believed reading a book – when he appeared. She smelled him long before she saw him. He reeked of sweat and vomit.

He was new.

She watched as he came into the entrance of the park and ducked into the trees. This close to a Change – at the very least he needed a strong talking to and an explanation of the rules. She would need the name of the mutt that bit him. _He_ would have to be dealt with. This mutt would get at pass, she decided. Jeremy would agree with her. Not following the rules due to ignorance wasn't exactly the same as defying them.

Elena slipped the book back into her bag and sent a quick text to Clay. She put it on silent and followed him.

* * *

Paige sat at her desk in the study. Her mom was talking on the phone to someone, someone in the Coven probably. They always liked hearing what happened at council meetings but no one had bothered to volunteer when her mom was looking for a replacement.

She sighed, closing out another job listing. How was she supposed to get an entry level job when all of the entry levels required five years' experience? She had a single year of experience due to a CO-OP (cooperative education) she had taken her second to last year in college. It was more intensive than a simple internship and they typically led to a job offer pending graduation. She had excelled and had received her job offer. The only problem was that by the time she graduated that next year, the company had downsized and they weren't looking for any new hires.

Now she was back at home, living with mom, which was great as she enjoyed it but she missed the freedom that college had given her. It wasn't as though she was a wild party animal or a bar hopper, she just missed being able to have her own space.

She heard the click of the phone being hung up on the receiver. Her mom insisted on using landlines, even though she had a perfectly good cell phone. There were just some things she wasn't ready to give up to the new way of doing things.

"Paige," her mom said, her face worried. Mom had been … older when Paige was born. Mom had been close to her fifties when she decided that she wanted a child and with some luck and some magic, the result was Paige. It wasn't too bad, having the age gap like it was, but it was jarring to for her to think about the future and how if she didn't find Mr. Right and soon, her mom may not be around to see her grandkids – if she even _wanted_ kids, which she didn't even know because she was still trying to figure out how to get out of her mom's house.

"Yes?"

Mom hovered over her shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze. "Can you search on the computer for missing persons?"

"Sure, you have a name?"

Mom hesitated. It was unlike her. She had a _very_ open relationship with her mother. Something was definitely off for her to hang on to something like that.

"I … I don't have a name, no, but could you keep an eye out for any articles concerning magic?"

Paige let out a snort. "I need something more solid than that, otherwise I'll just find articles about Elvis hanging out with Michael Jackson and how they're using magic to stay forever young."

"This isn't a time to be fooling around," she replied sternly.

"I know, but it's not like there are going to be articles saying that a witch has gone missing, a bitch, _maybe_, but not a witch."

"Just do the computer thing," she snapped and left the room.

This was out of the norm. Paige watched the empty doorway, expecting her to come back, to apologize for her tone, to suggest that they sit down and have some tea to settle their nerves.

She didn't come back.

* * *

Rachel opened her eyes. The light was bright, too bright to be natural. She was due any day now and she was still held captive by Malcolm and the others.

Logan had told her that his family was like the mafia. He had neglected to mention that they were _werewolves_. Or had he told her? Those last few hours with Logan were all such a blur to her, their _home_ being invaded, the drive from Toronto to Stonehaven, not knowing if Logan would make it or not, behind stuffed in a closet and told to hide while she heard otherworldly sounds from the floors below.

She clutched at her expanded belly; she felt him flip and move. She wasn't alone. She had her son. And she needed to find a way out of here for him. She knew that she wouldn't last long after he was born. They had told her as much. She would be kept until she was too big of a hassle. When the time came, he would simply be given to a wet-nurse. She was replaceable; they had made sure she had known that.

She was merely the host for the baby, _Logan_'s baby. She hadn't heard anything about him since she saw him last at Stonehaven. Well, she hadn't heard anything _true_. They had told her that they had caught and killed him. Or that he was found dead in a car wreck. Or that he simply gave up and didn't care about her or her son. All mind games meant to break her. Sometimes they did and she hated herself for that. She knew that they were all lies. Logan _would_ find them and they _would_ _all_ be a family together.

She hissed when a Braxton-Hicks contraction hit her suddenly. She had been having them for a few weeks now, off and on. They were practice, that was all that they were, just another reminder on her ticking clock.

* * *

Her long black hair fluttered in the breeze from the open window. She knew that she should cut it, dye it, do _something_ with it, but she didn't. She was defiant like that. She wasn't going to let some no name sorcerer force Eve Levine into hiding. However, if he did make another move or show up with some friends, she may consider it.

Maybe.

She looked at her watch. Her daughter would be in her last class of the day, the last of the spring semester. Savannah was twelve and Eve still was caught off guard at how much she looked like her at that age. She remembered it all too well, gangly limbs that were longer than most kids her age or older, the same nose, the same mouth that smirked all too often. She was the spitting image of her – all except for the eyes. The eyes were the giveaway that Savannah wasn't just a clone of her, but that she was special, a wonderful product of a horrible, willful mistake.

She had already thrown off two tails today. Yesterday it had only been one. She was used to being a target for sorcerers. She was a witch and in the sorcerers' opinion, she was lower than dirt. They didn't take it very well when she showed up and started to carve out her niche on the black spell market. She taught witches spells that the Coven _should_ have been doing if they weren't too busy hiding behind their knitting. She also taught witches sorcerer spells and that was what made her a target to them.

Sorcerers hoarded their spells. They didn't play nicely with any other supernatural. They simply employed them in their Cabals, their own version of the mafia. Like any good market, there were four Cabals and she knew she was targeted by at least two of them.

Eve checked her checking account. She had plenty for a deposit and first and last months' rent. There was no need for moving expenses. The perks of renting only furnished apartments made it to where she could easily move her and Savannah out at night and their pursuers would never be wiser until they realized that they never came back _out _of the apartment.

Blur spells were wonderful for that aspect.

Her alarm on her phone buzzed. It was time to go and pick Savannah up from school. Savannah didn't particularly care for her mother to pick her up, but once Eve gave her a very glossed over reason, she didn't fight it, much. She had grown up moving every few months. She was used to these types of things.

Eve wished that she wasn't used to it, but it simply wasn't safe for Savannah to be in one place too long. She might have been able to push her luck when she was younger, but as she was nearing the dreaded teenage years, she would have to be even more vigilant in their surroundings. If the Coven was worth half a damn or even the Coven her grandmother told stories about, they could find refuge there. But they couldn't. The Coven wouldn't touch Eve with a ten foot pole and if they knew about Savanah, they wouldn't touch her with a hundred foot one.

Eve went down the stairwells, casting a sensing spell at each floor. Each time it returned with the usual, other tenants moving around in their apartments near the stairwell or people going up or down. There was nothing out of the ordinary.

Eve walked out the doors and walked to Savannah's school.


	3. Changes

A/N: Thanks for checking out my story! Reviewers of the previous chapters, you can find your drabbles (my way of saying thanks!) in _Snapshots_. Again, first ten reviewers receive a drabble of their choice! I'm going to typically update on Fridays but I decided to update early this week due to the holiday week in the US and Canada Day also being today.

Disclaimer: I don't own _Bitten_ or the _Otherworld_ universe by Kelley Armstrong.

* * *

Chapter 3: Changes

The mutt, as with all new werewolves, took a long time to Change. Elena kept herself downwind. She didn't want to be put into the position of fending off a werewolf while in human form. Even with her years of experience, she didn't want to put it to the test. So she stayed downwind, watching him.

Like when he Changed, he didn't have control over when he Changed back. She winced when she heard the bones cracking and breaking back into place. Changing was a very private thing that they always did alone. It was honor amongst them that demanded no ambushes mid-Change. There were some mutts that didn't adhere to it but they always found themselves on a losing end on fight sooner rather than later.

She kept herself to the shadows as he laid there, panting, trying to regain his breath once he was fully back in his human form.

She heard a rustle further ahead and she froze. There hadn't been any runners the previous nights. She tilted her head into the wind, trying to catch the soft breeze.

Humans, although they didn't reek of sweat, although it was possible that they had just started up or they were meeting up for something entirely different.

The sounds were coming closer and the mutt was still lying there, nude as the day he was born. She wanted to hiss at him, to pull him aside, to get him out of the way. It wouldn't be in anyone's best interest for him to be arrested for public nudity. A werewolf in jail? That idea reeked of trouble.

She would have to hope that the humans didn't go this far into the woods. Or hope that somehow they didn't notice the naked man lying face down in the dirt.

"Is he done," she heard one of them say.

"Looks like it," another one replied, his tone was gruff, harsh sounding.

She furrowed her brow. This didn't sound good.

She moved further back, taking care to not make any noise. She didn't want to leave the mutt stranded there but there wasn't anything she could do. She needed to see what they were up to.

The mutt finally started regaining his motor control as he started to slowly pull himself up in a sitting position. He would have to move a lot quicker than that if he was going to keep himself hidden from the approaching humans.

Elena watched as he suddenly slumped over. "What the hell," she breathed, trying to come up with some sort of reasonable explanation. She let herself ease forward a few feet, straining her eyes to get a better look at the mutt.

He was asleep.

The men walked over to the mutt. She could see them clearly now. They looked average and were wearing plain clothing. She wouldn't have paid them any attention if she was simply walking by on the street.

The taller one was wearing a green shirt, the shorter in black.

"You ready?"

The black shirt clad man held up a finger. He was doing something on his phone. It beeped almost immediately.

"Let's do this," he grinned, looking up. He pulled out a small box and pushed something in it. He checked his phone again. "It worked; it's dead."

The green clad man looked over near where Elena was. Her breath hitched. Was she – shit, she was downwind, they could smell her, _if_ they could, that is. But if they couldn't, why would they be looking over at her? And what were they going to do with the mutt?

Elena knew that she needed to get out of there but she still wanted to know more. She needed to know what they were going to do. The mutt was the Pack's interest and if they were interfering with him, they were interfering with the Pack, and thusly her. It wasn't odds that she liked. Two against one rarely worked out for the one on their own – well, unless that one was Clay but she was nowhere near his fighting level.

She forced a swallow to ease her dried throat.

They patted down the mutt and took his wallet and keys. This was too elaborate to be a simple mugging.

"What the hell were you into," she mouthed. Her brain was at war with her gut. Instinct railed against curiosity. Either way she was going to lose. Either they would become aware of her and she would have to deal with them, or she would have to cut her losses and not have an explanation for Jeremy. If someone else was taking an interest in mutts, they needed to know.

* * *

Paige had wrapped up today's three interviews. They were positions she knew that she was more than qualified for skill-wise, but she just didn't have the official credentials on her resume to back her up. She was more than skilled with computers and even more talented with one of her favorite pastimes, hacking.

She never hacked into anything particularly big or interesting – she never went after banks, governments or businesses. Well, retail business, how about that. She did use her access to perform her own kind of background checks for companies before she applied. She wanted to be sure what she was getting herself into.

Her mom had left a few messages. Mom never quite the hang of text messages, she had tried though. Paige just requested she go back to leaving voicemails when her mom started sending her messages … one word at a time. And sometimes, it wasn't even the correct word due to autocorrects suggestions and her mom not knowing how to go back and edit it.

It was the usual things – calling to check in, see how she was doing, how the interviews went, but also something out of the ordinary, something that Paige almost missed. She repeated the last message and looked at the time stamp. Mom had left it thirty minutes ago. She thought for a moment, going over possible ways to get there but by then, she would have already concluded her business.

She sighed. Finally somewhat of an exciting Coven activity and she missed it because she was being interviewed by Big Business who probably tossed her resume into the trash once she left the room.

Her phone beeped. Shit, she had forgotten to turn it off silent. It was another voicemail.

Paige listened to it and her stomach dropped to her feet. She stopped walking to her car. She was frozen to the sidewalk as she listened to the message.

Her mind couldn't process it, couldn't handle it.

When the message ended, she fumbled at the phone to hit the 'repeat' message.

She listened again but she was not mistaken, she had not misheard.

* * *

Rachel gasped. The contractions were becoming more frequent the past few days. The doctors attending her had told her that she was due at any day now and that she simply needed to let nature take its course.

She couldn't though, she couldn't relax. She needed more time to get out of here. She needed more time for Logan to find her, to find _them_. Logan surely was still searching for her. She refused to even entertain thoughts that he had given up on them. He wouldn't, not her Logan, he would search to the ends of the earth if he had too.

She walked along the walls. She had been moved from a cell to a bedroom of sorts. There was a bed for her, a bassinet for the baby, along with clothes for both of them. She had to move but she recalled the doctors saying that walking could help speed up labor. She didn't want that but she was filled with restless energy.

Another contraction tightened her belly and she hissed, clutching the sides of her swollen abdomen. It lasted longer than the others, close to a full minute. She knew that wasn't what she wanted. She wanted short, erratic ones. He had to give her more time.

She walked to the window and stared out. She knew that she was in some sort of facility. She could hear the echoes of footsteps in the hall at night. Her cell had been below ground and her current arrangements were above. She could see tall trees from her window. She would see Logan emerging from them soon, she could feel it.

A contraction brought her to her knees as she rode out the wave of pain.

* * *

"So, what is on the curriculum this summer," Savannah asked on their walk home from school.

"Is there anything you'd like to know?"

"Um, all of it?"

Eve laughed. Savannah had an insatiable appetite for learning magic. She was skilled too, much more than Eve had been at that age. It might have been from the combination of the magical blood in her – Eve was a witch with a demon for a father, after all – or it could have just been her natural fortitude. Eve liked to think it was the latter.

"We'll get there. How has your fireball spell coming?"

Savannah groaned. She loathed the fireball. There wasn't anything particularly complex about the spell. It was the summoning of energy and transforming it into a small ball of fire, akin to the amount of light put out by a lantern, but she had to be careful. Apartments had sprinkler systems and she learned the hard way about not letting her attention lapse as she stared at what she had done.

"I thought so," Eve grinned. "We'll work on it some more. Once you have the fundamentals down, it will start becoming easier."

"And once I have the ritual; that is supposed to help."

Eve nodded. Savannah looked as if she was going to be a late bloomer in regards to hitting puberty. She hadn't yet had her first bleed. Most witches chalked it up to folklore nonsense and some families had stopped performing the ritual entirely. Eve's mother almost didn't, not until Ruth Winterbourne stepped in. Eve personally knew the affect the ritual had on her and she was going to make sure that Savannah had the same opportunity as she did.

She had a hunch that, with time, Savannah would surpass her. She certainly had the potential and the willingness to learn.

Savannah talked about her day, how they spent the different periods either watching movies or simply talking amongst themselves. Eve was silent sending out sensing spells, as she always did when she was out with Savannah.

She threw her arm across Savannah's chest, stopping her in place.

Her spell recognized something.

Savannah looked over to Eve. She didn't ask why she had thrown her arm out or why they had suddenly stopped. She clutched at her backpack, ready to run in any direction.

"Savannah," Eve breathed, "did you notice anything unusual today?"

"Nothing too out of the ordinary."

"There weren't any teachers or staff members you didn't recognize?"

"I don't … Wait, yes; there was a substitute teacher for math today."

"Male?"

"Yes."

Eve swore. Savannah was still too young to recognize friend from foe. Witches and sorcerers could identify the other from a simple look into their eyes. Unfortunately that ability didn't surface until their powers came into their own. Her gut was in knots. Savannah was – no, _could_ have been in class with a sorcerer. He would have been able to tell who she was right away. Eve had made few friends and plenty of enemies.

Eve grabbed Savannah's hand as they darted across the street. They would have to take a different way home today and be gone by nightfall.


	4. Stolen

A/N: Thanks for checking out the chapter! Again - first ten reviewers will receive a drabble of their choice!

Disclaimer: I don't own _Bitten_ or the _Otherworld_ series by Kelley Armstrong.

* * *

Chapter 4: Stolen

Elena froze. Her calves ached at this position, begging her to either stand up or to fully sit on the ground. She had been in this crouching position since the mutt started his Change back. Now, it was easily past an hour since the two men had shown up and started going through his pockets.

She slowly slid her hand to her jacket pocket. She briefly glanced at her phone's screen, dark, no missed text messages or calls.

That was atypical. She had expected Clay to have blown up her phone by now, demanding that she talk to him followed by calls of apologies, that he had let his temper get the best of him and that he would be bringing Jeremy with him to meet her if she didn't call soon.

Thankfully she had put her phone on silent before she entered the park earlier.

Twigs snapped behind her. There had been a few joggers go by the trail a few hundred feet behind her the past hour. She twitched every time she heard one go by. She was out here alone.

Silence returned. She let out a breath she hadn't been aware she was holding. The men still stood by the mutt. She could tell that the mutt was still alive; she could see his chest rising and falling with each breath.

A bush rustled behind her. She looked around and saw another pair of joggers. She frowned. Something wasn't right about all of this.

The joggers weren't on the trail, not anymore. They were running … at her.

She stood suddenly and cursed, her calves cramped and she knew after she stood that the men with the mutt would see her and where she had been. She did her best to ignore the pain and ran back the way she came.

Her breathing was erratic now; adrenaline wasn't allowing her to pace herself. She had to pace herself and find people. If she could find a crowd, she would be safe. She ran, past the bench where she sat earlier, past the entrance to the park. She ran down the street, knowing that she would catch attention of any passersby since she was _not_ in running gear. She looked as though she was running for her life. Maybe she was.

She looked back over one shoulder. The joggers were still behind her, although keeping a respectable distance. She would have to find some way to ditch them. Hopefully the other two were busy with the mutt and hadn't cared to pursue her.

It dawned on her that likely the two pairs were working together. She pushed herself as her brain connected the dots, forming a pattern.

She had already run two blocks and she hooked a left and then another, this time heading back towards the park but on a different street. She grabbed her phone from her jacket. She tried to unlock it but the screen remained dark.

"Shit," she muttered. She knew that it had a full battery before she left. She tried the power button but it didn't give any sign of life. She would have to try again once she had the luxury of time.

Elena made it to the other end of the park entrance. She could catch the two that stayed behind by surprise.

She ducked behind a bush that was tucked against a brick wall, blocking her from any view. She tried her phone again. She frowned. It wasn't responding to the home button or the power button. Was it no longer functioning?

She would have to keep this one. She usually trashed her burn phones after the job was done but Jeremy may need to look at this. She thought it was something more but it might have been the paranoia from being chased altering her view on things. She would have time to think about this again once she had wrapped this up and was back at her hotel.

She listened for the joggers. If they were following her, they would be almost caught up by now. She sunk low to the ground. She wouldn't be visible. It would simply look like she went further into the park.

The joggers did come in the next minute but they stopped outside of the entrance. They mumbled something to each other. She could smell the stench of their sweat and wanted to gag. It smelled of sulfur.

An arm grabbed her and raised her up. She cried out but a piece of clothing was shoved into her mouth. She tried to fight back when she noticed the smell of something burning and then the sensation of fire touching her arm. She looked down at it, there wasn't a lighter there, only one of the jogger's hands and it was glowing red.

The other jogger grinned as he grabbed her other arm and she winced as it too started to burn.

* * *

Paige had set up a Skype meeting. The Council had practiced this before but their ineptitude was seriously pissing her off. So far she had herself, Robert, and Kenneth. Cassandra wasn't answering any of their calls.

"Whatever – we can't wait any longer," Paige snapped. They had already wasted an hour trying to get everyone online. It had been close to two hours since her world was turned upside down.

"I am calling this official Council meeting in regards to –"

"You can't do that," Kenneth interrupted her. "You're not a council member."

"If you would let me get to the point," she snapped, "you'll find out that yes, as of two hours ago, I am."

Paige played what was left on her phone. The phone call her mother made as she was checking up on a witch that had missed her tutoring appointment. Her mother had gone from just simple conversation, to a stoic, chilled tone as she simply described what she saw. Mom had gone into the house and found it all in disarray. Something violent had happened here, and recent too. The coffee mug was still warm.

Mom narrated her movements, her going through the house, not finding anything. If only Paige had scheduled her interviews earlier or later, she wouldn't have missed this call.

The phone had a sharp noise, as if it was dropped or flung. There were other voices now besides Mom and they were not pleased. They were far enough that it was easy to determine that the voices were male but hard to determine how many of them.

"Do you young gentlemen know where Sarah is?"

It was code. There wasn't a witch named Sarah.

One or a few of them laughed.

"We do. We're sorry that she didn't have time to cancel your appointment. It was important for her … to keep her appointments," one of them said.

"Do you know when she will be coming back?" Mom asked them, this time in a louder, clearer voice. Paige knew that her mother was trying her best to give them the best information they could about what was going to happen next.

"I have a better idea. We can simply take you to her," one of the voices purred.

"That sounds fine," her mother said. "I would like to know where I'm going first."

"It doesn't matter. It's a one way trip."

Paige had the sounds her mother made when practicing magic etched into the deepest folds of her memory. Paige knew that she could be pushing one hundred and having a slew of ailments but she would forever remember the sound her mother made right before she cast as spell and the hiss of air she let out when she saw the success.

She heard it then. Her mother was taking on who knows how many with magic, trying to stall for time incase Paige answered her damn phone.

The first time Paige heard this part, she was elated. Her mother was by far the most competent witch she knew. If there was a situation that required magic, Ruth Winterbourne was the witch that you wanted by your side. She was sure that her mother had bound them or used some sort of spell to distract them, let her get away to safety.

She hadn't expected to hear her mother's cry of pain as something hurt her. Nor had she expected to hear the snapping of bone. Her stomach still lurched at the sound of it. Robert looked positively furious. Adam was sitting next to him, transfixed to the monitor.

The voicemail stopped a few minutes after that. After the snap, there was only the sound of trailing footsteps as they took her mother to wherever they were going to. There weren't any more clues.

"Kenneth," Robert edged out, "can you possibly do something about this?"

"I can try. I would have to go there. Paige, do you know the address?"

Paige looked through the scattered pieces of paper on the dining room table. Her mother would be shocked to see it in this state, nevertheless furious that these were all of _her_ notes that were laid out and now horrifically disorganized. Paige had torn apart their cabinets, looking for her mother's day planner when, of course, she realized that Mom always kept it on her. So she instead had to find where she kept the files of the current witches either in the Coven or Coven aged. She had tracked down the witch in question.

"It's over in Newton, about a twenty minute drive or so from my house."

"Right, well, I'll be on the next flight to Boston," Kenneth replied.

"Can't you do something _now_?"

"I wish that I could," he said sadly and signed off. Paige wanted to scream at him. She looked at the screen; Robert and Adam were still there.

"Is there anyone that would want to hurt your mother?"

Paige looked to the ceiling, trying to wrap her head around the idea. "No," she replied, "none that I can think of. I mean, there are always the sorcerers but Mom _never_ interacted with them."

"What about Sarah," Adam asked.

"It's code. There wasn't a witch named Sarah. She was checking in on Kylie and Brittany Alden, like she normally did."

"Paige, don't do anything rash. Your mother is more than a capable witch. She won't do anything rash so you need to follow her example. Have you told the Coven?"

Paige let out a guffaw. "And say what? They wouldn't know the first thing _to_ do other than be upset that this might force them to do something for a change."

"I'm coming," Adam said and he disappeared from next to Robert.

"No, you don't, Kenneth is already –"

"He's right Paige," Robert interrupted. "This is an official Council matter now. We are coming."

"What about Cassandra?"

"Not it," she heard Adam call from down the hall.

"Someone besides her needs to stay remote, in case something happens. We can't just hand over the entire Council."

She saw Robert frowning at her. Adam wasn't a member of the Council, so the option of him staying behind something that Robert could necessarily forbid. True, he was in line to succeed Robert when the time came, but when it came to other supernaturals and their opinions … well, Adam had a way to making them see him as an adult.

"You are going to keep me up to date on everything," Robert said. "I mean it Paige. This isn't like when you two were trying to do your best Nancy Drew impersonations. This could very well be the same group that has caused all of the other disappearances."

"I'm well aware of that."

* * *

Rachel was curled up on her side on the bed.

These weren't practice contractions anymore. She bit her lip to keep from crying out. Each one seemed to last longer than the previous and they were giving her less time in-between to recover.

A woman came in – the first woman she had seen since she had been taken from Stonehaven – and gave her an encouraging smile.

"I'm Dr. Carmichael but you can call me Penny," she introduced herself. Rachel turned and buried her face into the pillow. No, no, it couldn't be time for this. She needed to get out of here.

"I wish that we met earlier, but let me assure you that you and the baby are my priority," she said softly, coming over next to the bed Rachel was laying on. "I only arrived this morning and … well; let me tell you, I believe everyone is hurting from the lashing I gave them about you not receiving the medical care you deserve."

It was true. While she had been provided with plenty of food, water, and prenatal vitamins, this was the first time she had seen a doctor since she left Toronto.

"They're becoming tougher, aren't they?"

Rachel managed a nod.

"Do you know what you want? We can do anything here. If you want drugs, we can get you drugs. If you want a caesarion, we can do that. If you want to just go drug-free, we can do that too. This is what you want you."

"Logan," she moaned, "I want Logan here."

Dr. Carmichael sighed. "I wish he could be here too. They have people out there, looking for him. But, if you like, we can also record it, so we you two _are_ reunited, he can see how it happened."

Rachel gave no response to it. She knew that she was lying. They had no intention of reuniting her with Logan so that they could be a happy family of three.

Her body, however, did respond. She felt a 'pop' and a gushing of fluid down her legs.

Her water broke.

* * *

At least with it being the beginning of fall, there was less headache with changing schools. he school year had barely started here and in other districts, it still hadn't, Eve mused to herself as she finished packing her clothes in her suitcase. It wasn't purely clothes; she had hidden her grimroires in different layers. She had to keep the spellbooks safe. More than a handful of them were either the last or close to last copy.

She needed time to breathe; time to chase down information on who was following her this time. She should go to Boston and give her aunt Margaret a heart attack. Margaret was a witch, like all of the women in their family, but hadn't spoken to Eve in years.

She smirked. She could picture it now; her aunt's shocked face behind huge glasses when she opened the door. Margaret would have to be closing in on seventy now. The years really had gotten away from her.

She checked in on Savannah, who was aiming to perfect the world's slowest method of packing at this rate. She still had half her closet hanging up.

She paused in her thinking. Would Abigail be a better option? When she had her very brief stint on the East Coast, she had used her as a babysitter for Savannah. She was reliable … or at least, she was. Eve begrudged herself for letting her slip out of contact with her.

She wasn't sure exactly how she was going to break the news to Savannah. She needed to be safe, that was the priority. She had heard the rumors, of course, everyone had, people going missing at a higher rate than usual. Usually Eve knew that some legitimate, others were people keeping a low profile after receiving fallout from trying to cheat her on a deal. Many of them resurfaced later, once their ego and pride's bruising had faded.

She couldn't risk that the rumors were more than rumors with Savannah around. If something happened … she couldn't even bring herself to think about it. She had done her absolute best to keep Savannah off everyone's radar. Most of the community knew that she existed but nothing about how she came to be, thankfully.

"Ten minutes before we're leaving for the airport," she poked her head in the room. Savannah sighed. They had lived here for a while, longer than most places. It had almost been six months. Perhaps it was too long, maybe Savannah was becoming hopeful that they could stay here indefinitely.

One day, but not today.

The cab ride was quiet. The sun had long set, the fall hours shortening the days. Eve glanced at her watch. Their plane left at 9:30 and it was already approaching 8:30. She hoped that the security wouldn't be too big of a hassle this late.

They arrived at the airport and checked some of their bags. Eve made sure that all of the grimoires were in their carry-ons. They were too precious to be trusted to a luggage carousel.

Savannah slept during the flight. It was almost one when they landed. Eve nudged the sleepy twelve year old awake and they set about the task of gathering their things and hoping that their checked bags had also made it to Boston.

They had, fortunately. Eve also tracked down a cab to take them to Margaret's. She would try her first. She was family, after all, and even though they had fallen out, there was no reason for her to deny Savannah other than being petty.

The cab stopped in front of the house, all the lights were turned off. The entire street was quiet, only an occasional bird breaking the silence.

They gathered their bags and went up the steps.

Eve knocked.


	5. Surrounded

**A/N:** As always, first ten reviewers receive a drabble of their choice!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Bitten_ or the _Otherworld_ series by Kelley Armstrong.

* * *

**Chapter 5: Surrounded**

Elena wasn't sure where she was. The last thing she remembered as her arm burning and a bag being put over her head. She wasn't sure if she was knocked out or simply passed out from the pain.

She lifted the blanket to look at her arm. It was covered in bandages and it ached when she moved it even a millimeter. That was something new.

She looked around. She was in a dark room; the only source of light was coming from underneath the door and the window on the wall.

She smirked, escaping would prove easy enough. She pulled herself up and went over to the window. Well, slightly more complicated. There were bars on the outside _and_ inside of the window. She would have to make due with one arm. Using two hands to bend the bars would be easier but she knew that she was in no condition to even make an attempt.

She walked over to the door; her bare feet were silent on the cool tile. She brought herself into more of the light. She wasn't wearing the clothes she had on a few hours ago. Instead she was wearing a hospital gown.

Where was she? Had the police came, saw all of it and forced her into a psychiatric hospital? Shit, what _had_ been going on? The mutt had Changed back to human form, there were the two men that had injected him with something and then … the joggers that weren't simply joggers. They had chased her and she had thought she out maneuvered them.

Panic gripped her.

If she didn't have her clothes, she didn't have her phone and if she didn't have her phone, there was no way to get any sort of contact out to Jeremy. Her eyes widened. Her phone lock would have to hold. If they saw the texts that were on there …

Voices sounded from the hallway, distant, along with the sound of something with a squeaky wheel. She sniffed. Food.

She went back to the bed and sat there, using the blanket as another layer of coverage. She waited a few minutes, the cart stopping every few feet. The facility must have been full. Was she going to be lucky enough for the men she came in with to be just a few feet down the hall? She could ignore her arm for a few twists and yanks.

The door opened and she winced at the bright light that came on overhead automatically.

"Michaels, Elena," the man said. "You're awake, that's unexpected. I'm Dr. Matasumi and I'll be looking after you temporarily. How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Elena shrugged. "Where am I?"

"You're in a hospital, Elena. I'm afraid that you've had a psychotic episode, a break down a lot of people call it. We are here to help you. We want to help you get back to the life you had before."

"Before? There isn't anything wrong with me."

"No, no, that wasn't what I was trying to say at all," he said. "My bedside manner isn't the greatest, you notice. I'm more of a researcher than actual technician. We simply want to help you be the best that you can be. How does that sound?"

"When can I leave?"

"It depends on you. We need to keep you here a day or two for observation, you'll talk to a few therapists and then we'll evaluate where you are and where you want to go. If we can facilitate an out-patient program, we will do our best to ensure that it is the best thing for you."

"I want to leave now," she growled.

"I brought you some food. It's nothing fancy but you can tell us what you like and don't like and we'll start catering your meals to your preferences. Your happiness is very important to us, Elena."

He removed a Styrofoam box and set it on a table that was bolted down to the floor. He paused and looked at her. He added two more boxes on top of it and left, not saying a word.

Elena didn't move until she heard the lock click into place on the door. She walked over to the boxes. She could smell the food inside. The smells pulled at her, her mouth salivating, her stomach rumbling in protest of not eating it _now_.

She grabbed the first carton and opened it. Pancakes and bacon, slathered with butter and syrup. She thought about looking for a utensil but there was no time. She ate it all with her bare hands. She wiped her hands off with a napkin before turning to the next two boxes.

She didn't use a utensil for either one of those either.

She looked at the mound of discarded napkins and felt revulsion towards herself. She had eaten like an _animal_. Now that she had food she could entertain such notions of pride and dignity, but simply ten minutes prior, there wasn't any sort of consideration for those human concepts. She wasn't Elena, the _human_ then, no, she was something else.

Elena grimaced when she accidentally moved her arm. She should have asked about the bandages. She had supernatural healing abilities, which would normally be fine, but locked up in a human hospital? It would only raise questions when she would be healing at a rate that was _not_ human.

She walked over to the door and sat beside it. She needed to know more about this place and the people that were within it. She needed to be in a position to hear them, smell them. She needed to know what she was dealing with. The room suggested that it was high level security. Would there be roaming guards every so often? Would there be hourly bed checks? Any sort of interaction with the other patients here?

She had to know. She resigned herself to her position and set about the task of staking out.

* * *

Paige looked at her watch. Adam's plane landed twenty minutes ago, and yet, Adam still hadn't shown up at the baggage claim. She sighed and rolled her eyes.

She saw him, finally, on the escalator. He looked disheveled and she shook her head. Well, that was _one_ way to keep him entertained during the cross country flight.

Paige was well aware of the looks she was getting from other women when Adam approached her and gave her a hug. She had been receiving those looks ever since they became friends when she was twelve. There were a few occasions when they were in their late teens and Adam had hinted at pursuing something more but Paige always refused. She knew Adam's type and she was _not_ it and likewise for her. She loved Adam dearly, as a brother, but she needed someone who had read some books weren't related to surfing … or had more words than pictures.

"It's been too long," he said, grinning as he saw that she had already collected his bags.

"We Skype, how is that different?"

Adam laughed. "Well, I suppose for computer nerds, Skyping is probably better than the real deal. Communication and then when I start pestering you, you just put me on mute."

"I just 'happen' to suffer from a shaky wireless connection."

"Seriously?"

It was Paige's turn to laugh as they headed towards her car.

Paige drove and they dropped his bags at the house she shared with her mother and then it was directly to work. Adam had grown quieter the further they had driven out of the city.

"Where are we going?"

"Grace Alden's house over in Newton. Mom had been tutoring Kylie and Brittany for a few years now."

"You sure? She didn't get a call to say that she was lured somewhere else?"

"No, the voicemail was pretty clear on this. It _was_ Grace's house … unless," Paige's face froze. "Grab my phone, use the 'find my phone' app. Mom had it on her when she vanished."

"Wait, how do you know that she's gone and not still there? Have you already checked?"

Paige bit her lip. "I didn't play the entire recording."

"What the fuck, Paige? What do you mean you didn't play it all? We heard it end."

"Yeah, I pressed the 'end' button. It was faint, something that I only caught after listening to it a few times. I'll get that later, but use the app. We need to make sure that we're headed to the right place. I can't believe I didn't think to check it," she berated herself.

"Your password the same?"

Paige gave him a glare.

"You're too sweet," he crooned. He entered his birthday and opened the app. He frowned. "This isn't the way we need to be going."

"Shit. Where is it?"

Adam zoomed out on the phone and looked at it. "It's in Salem."

"You sure? I … shit. If Grace called and cancelled on her … but why wouldn't she have mentioned that on the phone?"

"Confusion spell?"

"That would have to be one hell of a spell. But if she was disoriented and _thought_ she was going to Grace's while she was really going … there, I suppose that's possible."

Paige pulled over into a McDonald's parking lot. She rested her head against the steering wheel.

"You can't beat yourself up over this. You're freaked out. You're not your logical computer like self."

Paige arched an eyebrow and sighed. "Alright. Well, it looks like Salem it is. Call Kenneth though and give him Grace's address. If they were able to use a spell … shit, there is one for … if you have an expectation of seeing something, you'll see _that_ instead of whatever is really happening. So if I was expecting you and really it was Cassandra that came, I would still see you if I was under that spell."

"Is this witch magic or sorcerer?"

"Witch, I think, I only overheard Mom talking about it a time or two," Paige trailed off. "But, call Kenneth anyway. He should check up on Grace and make sure everything is fine there. He might be able to get some reading off of all of this."

Adam cracked a smile. "So, we're going witch hunting in Salem?"

She playfully punched him in the arm and turned the car around, now heading towards Salem.

* * *

It had been _hours_ of agony. Her hair was matted, the sheets were soaked in sweat, tears, and who knows what other types of fluid.

Dr. Carmichael had brought in a few nurses, all women, she noticed. So far, she had refused pain medication. It wasn't something that she had intended or really given much thought too. She had been convinced that when _the_ time came, she would be with Logan and they would be somewhere far away from all of this.

Her bottom lip was bleeding. She was biting it, refusing to let herself cry out in pain. It was manageable, or at least, had been so far until these last sets of contractions ripped through her body and felt as though it was twisting everything into a tight ball.

She managed to rock herself back up into a sitting position. One of the nurses had brought in a 'birthing ball', a glorified exercise ball. She lowered herself on to it and made herself comfortable. It seemed to help some, relieving some of the pressure on her pelvis.

One of the nurses – Susan? – came over to check on her.

"How are you feeling?"

Rachel gave her a glare and the nurse laughed.

"Are you ready to do another check?"

They had been checking her periodically the past few hours, seeing how far she had dilated and if she was ready to push.

"I … I think so?"

"Does it feel like you need to push?"

Rachel paused in her answer, a contraction coursing through her. The nurse took that as a 'yes'. She waited for Rachel's face to relax before helping her back to the bed.

"You're ready," the nurse said. "Just hold on and I'll grab the doctor."

Rachel stared up at the ceiling. This was it. Logan wasn't going to be here. Her family wasn't going to be here.

Dr. Carmichael came over and squeezed her hand.

"You ready for this?"

Rachel shook her head no. "I … is it too late for drugs?"

"It is, but … well, you'll see. We have some hot pads ready for you." Susan and one of the other nurses came in with trays. "We'll put those on your back in case you have back labor." The nurses set to their task and Rachel hissed as another contraction went through.

"When the next one comes, I want you to push," Dr. Carmichael said. Rachel nodded.

They didn't have to wait long.

Rachel wasn't sure how long she pushed or how many contractions she felt trying to tear her body apart. She wasn't sure how in the world she was going to get through this without a familiar hand by her side. She wasn't sure how in the world she was supposed to keep it all together.

It didn't matter what she was or wasn't sure of.

Instinct took over. Something primal, something that stretched back to the dawn of the first beings, she was experiencing something that her ancestors had, something that connected her to the entire female race. It was powerful, knowing that an endless sea of women had been in this exact position she was in and had survived. Of course they survived, if they hadn't, there wouldn't be any humans walking around today. Her mother had gone through this, so had her grandmother, and her mother, and the mother before that. They had all sweated, bled and cried out, bringing the new generation into the world.

And just like that, it was over.

She heard her son cry out and she smiled, overcome by joy, ecstasy and love. She knew in that moment that she would do what she had to do for her son, Logan's son. Her life wasn't necessarily meaningless but his was more meaningful. He was the important one out of the two of them. He was her goal. She would ensure that he made it out of here even if it came at the cost of her life.

"Have you thought about a name?"

Rachel looked into her son's deep brown eyes. She couldn't get past the marvel of his sheer perfection. Everything from the top of his head to his tiny toes was perfect. She couldn't fathom changing anything.

She licked her chapped lips. She and Logan had talked about names some but never came to a decision. They had reasoned that they didn't need to fight over it, that they had _months_ to pour over books and try out different combinations.

Logan had suggested that they use the name Jeremy somehow, honoring the man that had been the father in his life. Rachel hadn't come up with a name. That was the deal. He would pick one and she would pick the other and whatever combination sounded best would determine the order.

"Jeremy Logan," she said softly, cooing at him. Jeremy stared at her with his big brown eyes, his fingers curled into tiny little fists.

* * *

It took a few minutes of arguing but Margaret let them inside. Eve won her over when she pointed out that she would likely cause some suspicion if they kept arguing out on her front porch.

Margaret looked flustered, to say the least, clad in her house slippers and her bathrobe. Eve bore a very slight resemblance to her aunt, mostly regarding height. Personality wise they couldn't be more different.

"What in the world are you doing here," Margaret said, pacing in front of the fireplace. Eve had gone ahead and sent Savannah to bed in the guest bedroom she knew Margaret always had set up.

"I'm sure you have a fairly accurate idea," Eve said coolly. "I'm sure the Coven keeps you up to date with all of the nasty rumors about me."

"That you deal in black magic? That you teach sorcerers witch magic?"

"Funny how everyone never talks about how I also teach witches sorcerer magic," Eve said, examining her nails. "You'd think everyone would like that one, taking our power back from the ones who stole it in the first place."

"This isn't a time for _that_ debate," Margaret said, wringing her hands. "You can't just show up here in the middle of the night."

"I'll be sure next time I drop by when the Coven is here. You're still the librarian, correct? Hiding all of the nasty grimoires that could teach a witch something useful?"

Margaret huffed.

"You two have to be gone by sunlight."

"I will, Savannah will stay here."

Margaret was stunned.

"I'm sure you've heard the rumors right, about the others?" Eve waited but when Margaret didn't nod, she continued. "Some supernaturals are going missing. Some are probably exaggerated but there are a few that don't add up. I need to look into it before I'm caught off guard. Savannah needs to be somewhere safe, somewhere …"

"Away from you," Margaret sneered.

Eve worked her jaw. "Temporarily, yes. Savannah hasn't come into her powers yet. She's more useful than almost any Coven witch, but I need to keep her out of harm's way. Once I figure out what is going on, I'll take the proper actions and come back for her."

"And what am I supposed to do with her?"

"Keep her. Teach her. She is your great-niece, after all. Or, if you'd like, you can have her visit Paige and Ruth."

"Why didn't you go to them?"

Eve looked at her and then looked at the pictures hanging on the wall. None featured her. She walked over to them, looking at them.

"You're family. You know that matters," she said softly. Family did matter when it came to witches. It was one reason Eve was furious that she had been cast out. She never stood a chance of being accepted, although her mother fervently tried when she was young. She had given up once she saw Eve's potential. It had scared her. It had scared the Coven. It scared all of those old busybodies. Well, it didn't scare Ruth but it was too late by then. The Coven had soured itself in Eve's opinion. She was still waiting the day that Ruth would call, to tell her that she had purged the Coven of its members and was starting anew, starting to return it to its purpose, witches training witches in magic and not simply hiding behind it.

"If you did take her over there, it'd also reveal that you'd seen me. I can imagine Ruth keeping that under wraps but you know Paige would let it slip out to someone. You know how the Coven loves its gossip."

Margaret had taken a seat in a faded pink chair.

"How long will you be gone? What have you told Savannah?"

"She knows that you're family. She knows you have grimoires, so there is little to no hope of you hiding them. She will find them. Perhaps she can teach you how to work a few," she grinned. She caught a photograph of her mother when she was a teenager, same eyes, same lips.

"But how long?"

"Until its dealt with."

* * *

Elena had started dozing when a sound jolted her awake.

She heard a baby's cries.


	6. Discovery

**A/N:** Sorry about the delay! I've had a bit of a finger injury (long story short: don't try to catch a ceramic planter), so I've been a bit behind. I am hoping that this won't cause the next chapter to be delayed! I also now have a tumblr, so you can catch updates on the show or the book series there. You can find the link in my profile.

As always - first ten reviewers receive a drabble of their choice!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the TV show _Bitten_ or the _Otherworld_ universe by Kelley Armstrong.

* * *

Chapter 6: Discovery

Elena listened intently again. She had to be sure what she was hearing. Yes, it _was_ a baby. What was a baby doing here? Why weren't the mother and baby not in the maternity ward?

The air conditioner unit kicked on. Elena breathed in deeply, grateful that it _was_ working after all. Her room had turned muggy.

She realized then that she could smell the other patients … including the werewolf she had been tracking when she somehow managed to get all caught up in this. Shit.

But then she paused. Something wasn't adding up. She could _smell_ others but she couldn't necessarily hear them. But she could hear the baby? Was the baby a visitor and simply passing through with its mother to visit someone? But who on Earth would take a baby to the psychiatric part of a hospital? Unless … unless the mother was in here.

Elena stood under the vent and gave it another sniff, trying to discover something. Something wasn't right. She hadn't seen any sort of hospital logo since she woke up, nor had she seen any nurses. She had only seen that one doctor and that was hours ago.

No, this wasn't a hospital. They especially wouldn't let patients in this ward go unchecked for so long.

Her sniff test proved nothing else out of the ordinary other than the mutt that she had been brought in with. Whatever this place was, she couldn't let them find out what he was. Her life and the lives of everyone she loved counted on her preventing that from happening.

She went back over to the door and eyed it. She knew she could break it, but she hesitated. She didn't know if there were any electronic monitoring sensors on it.

"Screw it," she said and gave the handle a hard yank. The door didn't budge. She frowned and put her full weight behind it. She was successful this time.

Elena walked out of her room and gave the air another sniff. Things were clearer out here. The mutt was simply in the next room over. She stopped in front of his door and touched the wall next to it, readying herself for whatever may come next. She would have the element of surprise but she didn't know what condition he was in. She hoped that he had stayed human the entire time.

The wall shuddered and she pulled her hand back. The rippling stopped and she gave it another tap. The wall disappeared. Well, it went from a solid wall to one that she could see through. Horror coursed through her. This was _not_ a hospital. She didn't know what it was but she instantly knew that this was far more serious than she could have expected.

The mutt looked up at her. He was sitting on the bed, staring at her, _smiling_ at her. Elena wanted to take a step back but her body refused the order. She had to appear in control. She was Pack. She was representing Jeremy, _the_ Alpha. The Alpha wouldn't take a step back because a mutt smiled at him. No, the Alpha would remain there as if he was a statue, not changing through the passages of time.

The mutt came over to her.

"Elena," she heard his muffled call through the glass. "You got to help me. You got to. I need to get out of this place."

He looked at the door and grabbed the handle. She grabbed it too. She couldn't let him get out.

"Elena, let me out! I swear, I'll help you get out. I'll do whatever you want, whatever you say! Just please don't let them keep me here!"

"Them?"

"You know – them! The freaks here that are doing their experiments."

"What experiments?"

"Don't play dumb with me," he shouted and furiously banged on the door. He was panicking. "I don't want to be some sort of lab monkey for them. I'll do whatever you say. If you tell me to shoot myself in the head after we get out, I will. Just please, please don't leave me here."

His eyes had watered up. His face was open, plain as day. Fear oozed out of every pore.

"Look! Look what they've done to me already!" He stopped banging on the door and let her see his right arm. It was mangled looking. She could see where parts of the muscle had been taken off … surgically, not through brute force. "They're going to work on you too, you have to know that. They'll find a way to make … make another and you won't be special anymore."

Elena broke the lock and he stumbled out.

"We … should we help the others? Or just …"

"Others?"

The mutt gestured down the hall. "Every door, there is someone there. I … they have a baby here, Elena. A _baby_."

"Why do you care about a baby?"

"I just … it cries, it cries so much." Elena frowned and looked down the hall. The baby, as if on cue, cried again. Elena and the mutt ran towards it.

Elena tried breaking the lock but the door shocked her. "Shit," she said, she looked down at her hand. It was burned, badly. "What the hell?"

The mutt hit the wall, activating it from solid to clear. Inside they could see a room that was just like theirs, only there was quite an assortment of different baby furniture and gear throughout. Elena could see the back of the mother – she assumed – that was walking, trying to sooth the infant. The baby looked young, maybe a couple of days old.

The smell hit her before her eyes could process what they saw.

Logan.

She walked up so that she was millimeters from the wall. She wanted to bang on it, to get Rachel's attention but she didn't want to scare her.

"Rachel," she tried, "its Elena. Turn around."

Rachel didn't seem to hear her. Elena tried again, raising her voice. This time, Rachel turned around and saw her.

* * *

Rachel stood there, shock taking over.

Elena.

Elena was here. Did she have Logan with her? Did this mean that whatever … was going on was now over? That it was safe for them to go back to Toronto?

She clutched Jeremy close to her, rubbing his back as she walked over to the wall. She hadn't known that … it could do that, but that was a small thing compared to the other things that she had seen and heard.

"Are you okay," Elena asked. Her voice was muffled, as if she was shouting through water. Rachel nodded. Relief coursed through her. Elena would get her out of here and back to Logan. Logan must … he must be doing something else or perhaps Elena had stumbled on to her accidentally.

It was so good to see a familiar face.

"Can you open the door," Elena asked.

Rachel moved over to the door but Elena yelled and stopped her. "Put him down," she yelled. Rachel was puzzled but did as she was asked. She grabbed a Moses basket and put Jeremy in it. She touched the door handle and hissed.

It was electrified.

"It's shocked," she said. "I can't."

Elena looked at her and nodded. "It is on this side too. But don't worry. We'll get you, both of you, out of here."

"Where is Logan? Is he on his way?"

"He's not with you?"

Tears welled up in Rachel's eyes and it felt as though her stomach had dropped to the floor. She bit her lip and stared at the ceiling, willing the tears to simply disappear. They didn't. They soon found paths down her cheeks and on to the floor.

The man next to Elena whispered something to her and she gave him a glare. He pointed at something and she followed his gaze. Elena took a step forward, away from the glass and putting her back to the man.

He grabbed something that he had hidden in his own hospital gown. Rachel couldn't see what it was but he simply thrust it on Elena's neck. She could see it clearly then. It was a syringe of sorts. Elena didn't react; she simply slumped to the floor.

Rachel wanted to scream but it was caught in her throat. She wanted to scream for the horror of seeing _what_ this man had done to her friend but it caught because she didn't want to frighten Jeremy. Her face was a mask of silent horror.

The man grinned at her and then walked off, leaving Elena lying on the floor. She watched him go down the hall half way, open a panel, and then pressed a few buttons. Almost immediately an elevator door opened at the end of the hallway and a team of armed guards came in. They picked Elena up and took her back to her own room.

The man that Elena was with came back and looked at her. He smiled, again, but this time it sent chills down her spine. _He_ was not right.

Then something unbelievable started to happen. His face changed. Gone was the young baby faced twenty something man with the panicked eyes. In his place was someone closer to thirty five than twenty five and his eyes glimmered with malice. He had changed his _face_ right in front of her. He looked different. Sure, he still had a similar build and coloration, but the eyes were different, as were the nose and lips.

He smiled again and touched the wall, vanishing from her sight. She grabbed Jeremy and held him close to her. She was shaking and needed some sort of human contact. Jeremy didn't seem to mind, cooing and giving her a smile at being in his mother's arms.

Rachel walked over to the far side of the room where the bathroom was. She went in there and closed the door. She rocked Jeremy back and forth, whispering nothings in his ear, hoping that by simply doing something as routine as this would somehow make things go away.

* * *

Paige pulled into the motel parking lot. It was already dark. What should have been less than an hour drive turned into a three hour headache with a wreck on I-95. She _had_ planned for them to already be back at home, talking about what they were going to do next. At least now they were past the headache of the delay and it was open roads in front of them.

"Ken still hasn't called?"

"Nope," Adam replied. He was restless, Paige saw. He had alternated bouncing legs, tapping his fingers on the console or armrest.

"How is the jet lag? You okay?"

"Yeah, for me it's only five, but you know, travel has a way of making the hours drag."

Paige rolled her eyes. She hadn't asked about his disheveled appearance and he hadn't offered. If this was five years ago, Paige knew that wouldn't be the case. At least Adam was showing _some_ signs of maturing, if even they were tiny.

"You want to grab some food first? I … I hadn't expected us to be this long and I skipped lunch."

"Sure. It just happens," he reached into his pocket to pull out his wallet. He pulled out a card and grinned.

"I can't see what it is, it's too dark."

"Exactly."

A beat passed.

"Your dad gave you _the_ council card?"

"Maybe. But maybe you'll want to explain why you want to stop before we start investigating."

Paige gripped the wheel and focused her eyes squarely on the road. "It's like I told you. I hadn't expected us to be out this late and I skipped lunch."

"You _can_ admit that you're scared of what we're going to find."

"I'm not scared."

Adam watched the cars fall back in the distance in the other lane. "It might be more convincing if you weren't speeding at," he leaned over, "holy shit, ninety."

"Oops," Paige said, easing off the gas.

"But seriously, if you want, I can just go by myself –"

"What if it's a trap? People don't leave cell phones on when they take someone. Everyone knows that you can track them."

"Not everyone is a technophile," he shrugged. "But sure, we'll grab a quick bite and then head over there."

"Can you try calling Ken? He _really_ should have called by now."

"After we eat. If he did find something, we'd need to start looking into it immediately, and I don't need you going all hangry on me."

Paige rolled her eyes and started scanning the streets for a fast food restaurant.

* * *

The meal was quick and would have been quicker had Paige bended her 'no food in the car' rule, but she didn't. Instead they were forced to hear overtired children complaining and the beeping of the cash register.

Adam called Kenneth on the way back to the car. He looked at his phone and frowned.

"What is it?"

"He's not answering."

"He could still be looking. You know that when he's … searching, nothing on this side can snap him out of it."

"That seems like a pretty bad trait to have. Here, let me sit and meditate and there can be buildings blowing up all around me and I'm just going to sit there without a clue."

"That's what his guide is there for."

Paige had tried to explain the concepts of how shamans worked – she only knew the concepts since, obviously, she wasn't one – to Adam but he always brushed it off, saying that he didn't need to know those things since his trusty sidekick did. She had argued that of the two, _he_ was the sidekick, the Watson to her Holmes.

He had given up shortly after that.

Adam had pulled up the map again, zooming in to the street address for Paige's mom's discarded phone. He gave Paige the directions and they drove.

The address wasn't for a house; it was a park … right next to the Salem Witch museum.

"This isn't very encouraging," Adam said, as they parked and got out.

Paige had been to the museum more times than she could count. The Coven made sure that all young witches in their charge went at least once a year, a reminder of what could happen to witches who were careless with their magic. There were only a handful of _actual_ witches that had burned in the trials, but the Coven still used the historical ordeal as a teaching moment. Granted, the exhibits on 'modern witchcraft' was a far cry from what they actually did but no one was going to offer up that piece of information.

"Can you call it," Paige said, looking around. She wished she had grabbed a cardigan or something. Her blouse and skirt combination wasn't the best outfit for hanging around parks at night. Adam called the phone and they wait, each listening for the familiar ring tone.

They found it, hidden underneath a bush. Paige grabbed it and looked at it. There weren't any external signs of tampering. She unlocked the phone and started going through its contents, hoping that Mom had left them some sort of clue.

She had.

* * *

Eve had gone underground, so to speak. She hadn't made contact with her old associates, not yet. She had to do some of this on her own. She had to have some sort of leverage to ensure that she wasn't being fed bullshit. She knew she had cemented her reputation in Chicago but sometimes people didn't believe it in other cities. A witch "couldn't" do the things that the rumors claimed Eve had done. A witch "wouldn't" do the things Eve had done.

There was some truth to that. The rumors were exaggerated tales of what she had done. The reality of it, however, wasn't too far off. Her theory was the bigger her reputation was, the less threat she would be under. Looks like she had miscalculated that one, seeing how she had picked up the tails in Chicago at a rate that was faster than normal.

Eve smirked at the people, clutching at their light jackets. She had grown used to Chicago. This was nothing approaching jacket worthy weather to her.

* * *

It had been almost a week since she had left Savannah in Margaret's care. She felt horrendously guilty about abandoning Savannah and knew that the note that she left wouldn't have appeased her daughter at all. She hadn't expected that she would have been gone this long. She wasn't going to be able to do this on her own like she wanted too.

She scrolled through the contacts in her phone. She really _should_ have kept in better touch with people here instead of burning most of her bridges in a spectacular fashion.

She hovered over Lavina Crane. She and Lavina had a complicated relationship, to say the very least. Prior to Eve, _she_ was the top dark witch in Chicago. Once Eve moved in … well, it had been a tense few months. Lavina, however, saw that she was beaten and retreated back to Boston, citing that she wanted to be closer to her family there. It was true, Lavina did have a niece named Molly that would be entering her young teens, the age where it would be easiest to start teaching her the real principles of magic. Eve didn't doubt that Lavina had plans on recruiting Molly to her cause and then it would be the two of them against her one. Whatever the cost, Eve wouldn't bring Savannah into this. She couldn't. On one hand, it was tempting. Savannah would be stronger than her in a few years, despite her youth, but the longer she could keep that concealed, she would.

Not that she would necessarily be opposed if Savannah offered to do it … and had all of the background information so that she could make an informed decision about it. Eve wasn't about to start some sort of multigenerational rift against the Cranes.

"What the hell," she said and selected the contact. The phone rang three times before Lavina picked it up.

"Hello, I'd like to drop in."

The line crackled.

"I know you're there Lavina. I simply need to gather information. The sooner I get what I want, the sooner I'm out of your town."

"What do you want?"

"You and I both know that I'm not going to tell you over the phone. I'll meet you. How about at the Coven's meeting place?"

Lavina snorted. Her family hadn't been part of the Coven for generations but she would still know where it was. The Coven didn't change much. It was rigid, strict, and because of that, membership was falling each time there was a funeral.

Eve waited for an answer.

"Sure, if that is what you want."

"_Alone_," Eve stressed. "This is a simple thing of wanting to pick your brain. I suspect that the Cabals are up to something and I'd like to see if you knew anything about it."

Lavina, like most witches, detested the Cabals and the sorcerers who ran them. It was more personal for Lavina, Eve knew, although Lavina never offered the details as to why.


	7. No Humans Involved

**A/N: **This is chapter 7! As always - first ten reviewers receive a drabble of their choice! Reviews are helpful to me in case something isn't coming across as clear as it should. I am trying my best to take the approach of "these are brand new characters that the audience hasn't seen" but sometimes I slip up. So, review!

This chapter name is also the title of one of the _Otherworld_ books by a character that sadly won't be making an appearance in this story/the show. :(

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the _Otherworld_ universe by Kelley Armstrong or the _Bitten_ TV universe._  
_

* * *

Chapter 7: No Humans Involved

Everything was fuzzy. No, they were blurry. There wasn't anything cute or related to bunny rabbits here. Images of what she saw last came back to her.

Rachel. Rachel was here, and so was her baby, Logan's baby. She tried to sit up but found that she couldn't. She was restrained. Her vision cleared and she saw what held her, a strait jacket. There had once been a time that she kept expecting to wake up and see her in one of these. That was before, before she finally came to terms with her new identity, werewolf, and made peace with the idea that the Elena she was before the bite wasn't the perfect creature she had created in her head. It wasn't the werewolf that brought out her temper; she had had that all along. It was the same with her flippant remarks, her lack of trust, and the desire for something to make her whole. That girl had been there all along. It was easier to blame Clay, the bite, the werewolf for all of her short comings, anything to pass the blame to somewhere else.

A throat clearing grabbed her attention. She searched for its source but couldn't find it. It turned to a chuckle and her blood ran cold. She knew that laugh.

"Finally found a way to beat me, Patrick? Tie me up so that you might stand a chance," she called out, looking at the fake wall. It would grab his attention. It had too.

It did. He came in, although he was no longer laughing. He stopped, barely past the threshold and looked at her. She knew that he was imaging her if she wasn't wearing the jacket. Hell, in his imagination she was probably hanging by the strait jacket. He was twisted that way … much like his right hand. Well, what was supposed to be his hand, at least.

A few years ago, he had found himself in trouble, as mutts tended to do. Jeremy had told Clay and Elena to scare him, to give him a warning that there wouldn't be a third visit, and that he _really_ didn't want them to make the second one.

They were too late. A mixture of one of Clay's temper tantrums (and she was reacting to him perfectly logically and rationally … or so she would claim until someone could provide proof that she hadn't) and Patrick simply behaving like the untrained mutt he was led to a harsher punishment than planned. He had stepped it up this time – he hadn't simply murdered someone. He had bitten someone … a woman. Clay and Elena found him in an abandoned apartment building, her screams cried out for someone to end this misery. She wasn't going to make it; Elena knew enough to know that. Her body … it was twisted, mangled, contorted into shapes that were not natural for a human or a canine.

Elena couldn't move. She was frozen to the spot, staring at what creature that housed the woman's mind. Clay ended her misery quickly. He then turned to Patrick, who had tried to flee once they arrived but held back, on the event that Elena could somehow reassure him that what the woman was going through was normal.

Clay leapt at him, knocking his head back into a wall. Patrick started to panic, realizing that this all meant. Elena didn't see what Clay did but she heard the screaming, followed by a thud as the body hit the ground.

"You killed him, didn't you?"

Clay looked at Patrick and nudged his leg. "Call Jeremy," he managed to rasp out. "He has to give the order." Elena looked away when Clay began to handle Patrick's hand, breaking it in places that would guarantee that he would never regain full use of it. She didn't like to see the gore, even if the mutt deserved it.

There wasn't any cell service in the building so Elena slipped out. Clay followed her, in case there was another mutt lying in wait.

It took close to an hour to reach Jeremy by phone. He had been out for a run, and thus, wasn't in any state to re-issue orders. By the time they went back inside, Patrick had come to and managed to slide out.

Jeremy had given them more leeway after that, that if certain conditions were met, they were allowed to use those guidelines to escalate the punishment. It now gave them some flexibility when they were in the field and things were much worse than the rumors suggested. It also let Jeremy keep his authority and leant Clay the freedom to do what Elena said. Elena had been put in charge of making the call. Jeremy never explained why and Clay never questioned it. Elena did. And even though Jose Carter technically fit the rules, he was still human. Werewolves don't kill humans. That was as close as to a number one rule if there was one. If Jose Carter had been a werewolf … she likely would still have had her identity crisis, but it would have been something else that set it off.

"I could still take you, even after what that bastard did to my hand," Patrick replied, flexing his mangled hand. He was missing fingers and the color was off – scar tissue, Elena supposed, as it moved in an unnatural manner – but the most jarring thing about it was that, as he flexed, he was _missing_ half of his hand, as if Clay had simply ripped it in half, leaving him with a thumb less hand.

"I've love to try it," Elena grinned. "Just get someone to untie me and we'll go at it. You know, since you can't really do much with that hand, can you?"

Anger flashed across his face, his lips snarled, but he pulled it back.

"Do you know where you are? Why you're here?"

"Are you going to tell me?"

"I might. It could be fun," he shrugged. "You see, for once, _you_ are going to be the prey and someone _else_ is going to be the predator."

"You, I take it?"

"I wish, but most likely not. They have all kinds of people lining up to kill you. Last I heard there were even a few royals clamoring with bids."

"Bids?"

"I guess you're not listening as close to the ground as you once were. It sure as hell explains how you fell into our laps."

"What about the mutt?"

"What about him?"

"I … are people bidding on him too?"

"Now, why on earth would they do that," another voice chimed in. Elena saw the mutt from the park stroll in, smiling. She should have put the two together before. He wasn't just some college kid; he was doing everything on purpose to lure her there. The scents all over, the making a big show at the bar, taking forever to Change. His arm was normal. It wasn't as it looked when he was trapped in his cell. What the hell was going on here?

"You're Tyler, Patrick's brother," she said, putting the final puzzle pieces together. She had a very small file on him. As far the Pack was concerned, he was one of the okay mutts. It looked like they were wrong.

Elena wanted to know about what they were planning for Rachel and the baby. Surely they wouldn't _do_ anything to either of them. Well, if they were normal humans with a normal sense of compassion, she was sure that something could be worked out. Unfortunately everything that seemed to deserve some dignity only received the opposite treatment in the werewolf world.

Elena looked around. This was far above the brothers' financial level and certainly above their intellectual brain trust.

"You do realize that by letting someone hunt me down, you're going to have two groups gunning for you, right?"

"Two, is it? What, the Pack and the ghosts of the Pack? Just give us a few weeks and it'll all be one group. Can't say I've ever heard of ghosts being able to do anything."

Elena knew that she had a trump card. Malcolm Danvers didn't have the reputation that he had by playing nice. If he was keeping his return to the playing field quiet, she was sure that she could manage to spoil those plans and not feel too guilty about it.

"It'll be the Pack and technically, I suppose you can say that he was a ghost."

Patrick frowned.

Elena smiled. "Don't you know boys?" She fluttered her eyelashes. "Malcolm Danvers has decided that he wants me and he'll murder anyone who stands in his way."

* * *

Rachel had managed to get Jeremy back to sleep. It was nice, this stage. It consisted of eating, dirty diapers, and then sleeping for a spell. It helped that it was a steady routine and he had a very easy going temperament. She knew that he definitely didn't get that from her.

She was ignoring what had happened earlier. It had all just been a product of not being able to have a solid night of sleep in forever combined with stress.

She didn't _really_ see a man's face change in front of her as if he was wearing some sort of mask. No, that was impossible.

Jeremy started to fuss again. She'd have to ask how much crying and fussing was normal for a newborn.

She had thought she had time to prepare. There was supposed to be plenty of time for her and Logan to go over a pile of pregnancy and parenting books. He was supposed to be there with _her_.

She knew in her gut that he was still out there. He wouldn't give up. Not her Logan.

* * *

Paige had called to let Robert know their next move and get his advice. Adam had already let his opinion be known loudly to everyone already.

Mom had left a note behind. She had been looking more into the disappearances than Paige realized. Perhaps if she had been paying more attention to what was going on at home instead of trying to get _out_ of home, maybe things would have played out differently.

She had to come clean to Robert about not playing the voicemail in its entirety. It just seemed to … bizarre, too out there.

Mom had realized that she wasn't where she thought she was. She realized that she had been put under a spell – a _sorcerer_ spell. She, however, made sure that her pursuers thought that she was still under it. She was just another little helpless witch.

Adam sat there. He replayed the message only once. Paige had assumed he'd play it several times and ask her what sort of joke she was trying to pull off and that _now_ was not the time to try to usurp his claim.

The message had been a clue where to look for the note. Adam had first brushed it off, saying that perhaps Ruth was still under the spell and that it might be some sort of trap. Paige had to give him that – she hadn't considered that possibility. But this was Mom. She knew how to shake off a spell.

The note was simple and plain, as sign that she wrote this in a hurry.

It was one word and an address.

* * *

Someone had been following her the past three blocks. She had tried ditching him, she assumed that it was as he, but so far hadn't had much luck.

She was growing tired of silly games. It was one thing that she entertained when she had Savannah's safety to consider, but she didn't have Savannah with her. Margaret wouldn't even think about getting two weeks close to trouble. At least that was one positive aspect about the Coven. They were so afraid of their own shadows that they wouldn't even be on the supernatural radar on persons to target.

Of course, if the Coven was doing what it is was supposed to, sorcerers would think twice before trying to screw with a witch. Well, that could be a potential draw back. It always brought a small smile to her face when she was able to best a sorcerer and the look of horror when he realized that this mere _witch_ was going to come out on top.

But she'd trade those experiences for the Coven doing its job in a heartbeat, fun be damned.

She glanced at her watch. She was supposed to meet Lavina in under an hour and she didn't need to make things even more tense leading a tail to the meeting.

It was time to ramp things up a bit.

She ducked in front of a parked car and cast a cover spell. She listened and waited. The spell would hold. It left her more exposed than she would like but she prepped a knockback spell, uttering all but the final word. The cover spell wasn't perfect. It demanded her complete attention to holding it and she had to be perfectly still. A twitch of the fingers or shifting weight would break it and leave her exposed. There was also the very small tell that came with the spells. If you looked just right, you could tell that _something_ was there but not what.

Most sorcerers didn't bother to themselves to know about witches spells. Useless, they called them. Witchs' magic focused on defensive spells and sorcerers' offensive. It should have led to an uneasy truce where one side couldn't better the others, but it had never gone that way. Witches could learn sorcerer spells and vice versa but it was unheard of a sorcerer doing it. Witches did it all the time. The only problem with using magic that wasn't inherit was that it was notably more difficult and drained their magical reserves much faster than if they stayed with their own.

Luckily the cover spell was a witch.

Eve remained there, squatting between the cars, hoping that the owners were tucked away in their apartment building. She listened for heavy footsteps but she didn't hear any. Was that heels? Wouldn't be the first time she took down a sorcerer to discover that he wore lifts in his shoes.

"I see you," a female voice called out. Shit. That didn't sound like Lavina. It could be someone working for Lavina, witch or half-demon. Or she could stop being paranoid for a half a second and realize that it could be talking to someone else on the street.

She resisted the urge to check her watch. Her head turning would break the spell and lead to more questions if a human saw it. It'd lead to a nasty confrontation if it was someone else.

"Hiding between cars? Is that what you're resorting to? What a sad, sad, day. And to think that you thought you outsmarted me," the voice chimed in again.

Definitely not a human, definitely looking for her, shit.

She still had the spell prepped but she could feel that it's time was running out. She'd have to recast if she didn't do anything soon.

Eve didn't wait for someone to hunt her down. Well, she did if it was part of a grander overall plan – shit, there wasn't time for this.

She stood up, breaking the cover spell and said the final word.


End file.
